As the fire dwindled and the sun dipped below the horizon, Lukterasia finished crafting Mysyn’s new sword and added the finishing touches with her magic. 

“Here you go, it’s done,” she called out to him. “I’ve made it just as you had requested, but let me know if you find any problems or want something extra.” 

Curious, I tagged along with him to see the result of Lukterasia’s handiwork. 

“This is…” 

Mysyn picked up the rectangular obsidian block in her hands and raised an eyebrow as he examined it. 

“Pray tell—I mean, may I ask how do I use this as a weapon?” 

“You wanted a collapsible sword, did you not?” she said, stretching her arms lazily. “And you said that you are not used to wielding magical swords, so I devised a mechanism that allows the blade to be extended and retracted with a press of a button. Try feeling the side of the hilt for the release.” 

Hesitating, Mysyn followed her instructions and cautiously tested the sword’s mechanism with his thumb. In the blink of an eye, a gleaming razor-sharp blade sprang out from the top of the obsidian casing—piercing the air with a quiet but deadly whistle as it caught the moonlight above. 

“Schadwe!” he exclaimed, practically jumping in shock at the fully-extended sword.

We exchanged a bemused look before she tentatively asked, “Does that mean you like it…?” 

He turned to her, a profound look of astonishment etched on his face. 

“T…t-t-this is the finest blade I have ever laid my eyes upon!” he cried. “I’m ashamed to admit that I doubted your abilities on my first impression! Never in my life could I even begin to fathom that it is possible for someone else to surpass the best blacksmith in the Hinterland!” 

“Um, thank you for the compliment, but you should probably calm down first…” 

Paying no heed to her awkwardness, Mysyn gushed on about the brilliance and flawlessness of the sword for another five minutes before thanking her profusely and wandering off away from our camp. 

“He’s finally done?” I let out a yawn and sat up from the spot near the smouldering fire where I had dozed off. “Where is he going?” 

“He mentioned something about having to collect the organs of the dragon before they get eaten by strays,” Lukterasia said, stifling her own yawn.

“I’m amazed that he still has the energy to do that in this chilly weather…” I held my freezing hands over the blissfully warm hearth. “Anyway, isn’t it about time that we contact Miho?”

“You can do the honours today,” she replied in a languid voice before curling up in front of the fire. 

“How nice of you…tomorrow will be your turn, got it?” 

I took out my pasofone, and after clumsily navigating through the holographic menu, I managed to type up a brief message describing the fight with the sand dragon and our encounter with Mysyn and sent it to Miho. A moment later, the device vibrated with an incoming call.

“Greetings!” Miho’s hologram waved cheerfully. “Is it already night over there? I read your message just now, and it sounds like you and Lukterasia have already begun your adventure. How are things going now?”

“Mm…I can’t really tell, but we’ll keep you updated on our progress,” I mused. “Side note, you should probably nerf Lukterasia’s magic in your「World Novel」. Crushing a dragon to death is way too OP.” 

“I’ll definitely take note of that,” she said with a wry laugh. Then, pausing for a moment, she lowered her voice. 

“One more thing—there’s something that I forgot to mention before you left. Since Her Holiness has decided to not reset the world back to its original state, many things will be different from what you’ve known…if my estimates are correct, it is around fifty years since the demon invasion of Eltshion as of now.”

I blinked, unsure if I had heard her correctly the first time. 

“Did you just say fifty years?” 

Miho glanced away, hesitating, before nodding her head. 

“Although this is your homeland, I feel that it’s important to remind you that most of the things you remember about Eltshion may have either changed beyond recognition or no longer exist,” she said quietly and smiled. “But don’t worry about it too much, I’ll send a map of Eltshion to your pasofone so that you can navigate your way around later.”

“Thanks for your help…” I bit my lip, and after a short pause, asked, “By the way, do you have any information about what happened to the demon army?” 

“The demons?” She tilted her head up in a thoughtful pose. “As far as I can tell, they retreated and split themselves into many different factions after the abrupt disappearance of the Demon Lord. Most of them are in hiding, but there are a few which have apparently sworn to peace and successfully integrated into society.”

“They what?” 

“It seems that some of them have even interbred with humans in this world,” she added. 

I raised my eyebrows and shot a glance at Lukterasia who was fast asleep. 

“A-ahem, anyway,” she continued. “If there’s nothing else, please take care of yourselves and have a good rest for tomorrow.”

“Mm, see you later, Miho.”

Her hologram flickered off with a click, and a new p-mail notification popped up just as I was about to switch off my pasofone. Opening the message, I found an attachment file labelled as ‘Map’. 

‘This must be what she was talking about earlier…hmm?’

I noticed a white dot blinking on the right of the map, and as if responding to my unspoken question, the map swiftly zoomed in and enlarged the area around the white dot.

“That’s surprisingly useful,” I wondered aloud. “So he was telling the truth, after all…” 

The silence was suddenly broken by footsteps shuffling in the distance, and I hid my pasofone just as Mysyn returned to our camp with a heavy-looking sack. 

He stole a glance at Lukterasia and quietened his breaths. 

“I made us some dragonhide blankets,” he whispered, opening up his sack and tossing me two rolls of smooth, charcoal-black material that felt somewhat fuzzy to the touch. “The gelid is one thing, but the gales in these parts can freeze you to death if you’re not careful.”

I shook a roll open and laid it on her. She made a satisfied noise and buried her body into the blanket completely. 

“You should retire too,” Mysyn said, sitting down at the same spot where she had sat and banking the coals with a stick to keep the heat going. “If we can reach the trade route and hail a caravan by the dawn of morrow’s sun, it shouldn’t be an impossible task to arrive at Horne before eventide.”

I wrapped the other blanket tightly around myself. “Do you roam around the desert often? You seem pretty familiar with this place.”

“I’ve been commissioned by quite a number of merchants in the past to be their vanguard while they traverse along the trade route,” he replied. “Although these are desolate lands, unscrupulous bandits seeking to strike a fortune will sometimes raid the trail—and out here, there isn’t a soul around to save one from danger if one doesn’t prepare adequate defence.”

“Bandits, huh…” I shifted my gaze to the dark dunes around us. “Is it safe for us to sleep together like this, then?”

“I’ll keep vigil till the morning light.” He took out his crossbow and removed the old string and broken limb. “I have to repair this before we set off again, after all.” 

I gave him a curious look. “Why do you use a crossbow if you are already using a sword?” 

He seemingly mused on my question as he carved a new limb from a piece of the dragon’s claws with his blade. 

“I have a tendency to avoid direct confrontations unless necessary,” he finally said after attaching the limb and restringing his crossbow. “Have you heard about the Great Assassins Huginn and Muninn before?” 

“Mhm, I used to know them.” 

He shot me a weird look. “You used to know them?” 

“I became acquainted with those two during…”

I stopped myself when I realised that the events I was describing had happened fifty years ago from his perspective. 

“I-I mean, I’ve heard so many stories of their impressive feats that I imagined myself meeting them when I was young,” I said quickly, trying to cover up my blunder. “They were Ravens too, weren’t they?”

“Indeed, they are one of the most famous Ravens from our clan. And the weapon of stealth that they used to perform their daring exploits is none other than the crossbow.”

“Is that why you use a crossbow?” 

“I suppose so.” 

He poked at the fire again. 

“They were my parents, too.” 

“Oh…” I blinked. “Wait, what?” 

“My mother gave birth to me shortly before they left to fight for the Republic, so not many people outside of my clan know that they had a child,” he said quietly. “But that is the main reason why I have always felt a propinquity with the crossbow, even after picking up the sword like everyone else.”

‘Now that I think about it, no wonder I thought his speech sounded oddly familiar…Muninn’s way of talking was also pretty hard to understand too. Did she pass down that trait to her son unconsciously?’ 

I snorted lightly at the recollection, which earned a bemused glance from Mysyn. 

“Anyway, I believe I’ve answered your question fairly,” he continued. “If I may ask, will you also be willing to answer a question that I have in mind?” 

“Hmm? Sure, go ahead.”

He picked up the crossbow and drew an arrow from his quiver. 

“I must first warn you that us Ravens have the sharpest senses of all beastkin, so there is no point in trying to deceive me.” he said, deadpan. “Who exactly are you and your partner?”

I hesitated. “I told you that we—”

“—are travellers from Rientshire, east of the Enchanted Forest?” 

He huffed out a sound that was something between a chuckle and a scoff. 

“That’s the territory of the faeries, known for being the most intolerant race of all. I can believe that you hail from there to some degree, since the faeries are as prejudiced against humans as the other races—” he nodded his head at Lukterasia “—but I can’t say the same for your demon partner.”

I quietly reached for my sword. “How long have you known?”

“I wish to point out the fact that your partner barely made an effort to conceal her demonic abilities,” he said in a matter-of-fact tone. “In sooth, I’m not the only one whose attention has been drawn to her black magic.” 

All of a sudden, he shot up to his feet, cocked his crossbow, and fired it at the sand dune behind me. A loud, spiteful hiss pierced the silence as the arrow found its mark. 

I jumped too, grabbing my sword. “What’s that?!” 

“I suppose this is your first encounter with a harvestman?” he questioned. 

“Harvestman?” I snorted. “What kind of silly creature is that?”

As if in response, a colossal spider-like figure emerged from the sands, eyes gleaming with pure malevolence as its menacing pincers and tail poised to strike. 

“Well, you’re about to find out now,” Mysyn said, loading another bolt. “Get ready.”